JOHN

I managed to intercept Jeff Mitchell and take him to Chef Chris’ office to talk in private. Chris wasn’t due ‘til four and Andy was rocking and rolling in the kitchen. He’d be clocking off soon and I was pretty sure he wanted to spend some time hanging out with his Aussie buddy. No problem, this shouldn’t take too long.

“So,” I asked, “you doing good?”

“Yeah fine, mate. The Inn looks bonzer. You and Riles must be kicking arse.”

“When the plumbing works, we do okay.” I had to grin, could he have picked a better time to show up unannounced?

“No worries, I got it under control. Kim filled me in on what’s been happening and I checked it out. I’ll be on it tomorrow morning; arranged for some help, highly recommended blokes who owe a mate of mine a few big favors. The place should be right and running fine by the end of the week. Easy fix, mate.”

“Good, good. Ah … listen; I’ve got something else to talk with you about.” He sat still as stone and I poured out the whole story. His eyes widened when I talked about the powerful visions some of us had and he insisted that nothing like that happened to him. I told him about the left tower thing with Gemma Kane … yeah, he recognized her name, even watched that stupid ghost show religiously. Then I told him what she saw and … what happened to me. Conveying the Portal’s messages and the really important reasons for them sounded like I was reading from a fucking script. Hell, I’d rehearsed it a thousand times inside my head. I had to make sure I didn’t leave anything out, ay.

Jeff was stunned, so I kept on talking. “Dino’s tracked down a mess of the guys we’ve had no contact with … and I’ve put together a list of everyone we seldom see … or haven’t seen since the game broke up. I sent everyone an invitation to get their asses here. Whatever it takes, you know. Free room and meals, anything I gotta do to get face to face with some of these guys. The Portal ain’t fucking around … when it says no one can be even thinking about going back … that means no one. Just because I don’t know some of these dudes, don’t mean shit. We’ll all pay if I fuck this up.”

“Bloody hell, John. You’re not in this alone. You keep us all abreast of what you’re doing, and we can help get the stragglers here for a chat. Don’t be carrying it all yourself. I mean, good onya for tryin’, but we’re all in this thing together. I’m game, whatever you need.”

I grinned. “I need the plumbing working, Jeff. I’ll let you know after that’s done.”

He’s a good kid, his sexual preferences aside. He mentioned something about Kim having women trouble; although I can’t imagine how. Didn’t Kim and Emily just hook up? Young people, go figure. Andy poked his head in and invited me to the pub with them but I said I’d see how the day filtered out. Sick baby, tired wife … tired wife alone upstairs with Terry to boot. I figured it might be nice to just close the office door and be quiet for a minute.

Quiet? Was that what I thought I’d get? No, it wasn’t that the kitchen staff kept popping in or anything … the noise was all inside my own head.

I can’t begin to explain what this odd adjustment is like for me. Granted, I was only gone for two damn weeks … here. In my Portal, I was reliving my life like a hundred times. It all had somehow become reestablished in my mind and my guts. Of course, I had no serious interest in running for sheriff, but truth be told … if Ben had refused, I might have stepped up and taken the shot. No, it’s not that I want to be sheriff … my brain was kinda telling me I am sheriff. As much as I love the Inn, my life and work here … it isn’t feeling right to me at the moment. I think the easiest way to explain this all might be ‘culture shock’. I just feel kinda out of place.

And there’s more to it. Think about it. I just left a life where in a normal twenty-four hours … I was having the same fucking argument with Donna three or four times, pacing around the same goddamn coffee table … coping with an increasingly growing sense of jealousy and insecurity.

Poor Riles had been through so much with me gone. The last thing I wanna do is bring it all up and make her more concerned. Add to that a kid with chicken pox and trust me … it was best I steered clear of possible confrontation. Fuck, I had no goddamn basis for any confrontation! I’m the one who almost strayed in our marriage, not Riles. Not ever Riles.

So, I locked myself in the Chef’s office for two hours, fighting the feeling I might blow a few veins in my head and ignoring the fact that Terry had spent two whole weeks alone with my wife … the fact that he was now having lunch alone with her. Shit, the best I could hope for was a little baby vomit from Nathan to ruin whatever Terry might have in his head.

What the hell? I stood, paced the small office, pushed my hair back and groaned. Terry never tried anything … and he never would. Riley wasn’t interested in destroying our marriage … and she never would. Fuck! I really need to get myself more tightly seated in my real life. I got no room for this kinda shit! I think I need some perspective!

BEN

It wasn’t what I was expectin’. Ain’t like I really knew what I was expecting, even when I went to find her. Never done that before for no woman. Wasn’t actually sure why I was doing it at all … just knew that my guts were telling me I had to try.

I know I seem like a hard man and for the most part I am. But I got a few unspoken responsibilities here. This is my family … strange as it seems since I never had a family before … they are mine. I like the men, like the women … fuck, I even like the kids. Lying there, deep inside the woman I love, I only knew two sure things about myself.

First, I can’t be without Tracy. And second … I can’t let this family down. So …

After we both caught our breath and held onto each other like we’d never see each other again, I stood and walked across the room. At the little box they call a DVD player; I pushed the ‘on’ button then did the same to the TV. Settling beside her, Tracy groaned.

“We watching a movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Ohh, I love westerns. Is this a western?”

“Yeah.”

Hours later, after all the explainin’ and all the questions we were both quiet. Finally she shuffled on the bed, pulled the sheets to cover her pretty nipples and sighed. “Ah … what does all this mean, Ben?”

I shrugged. “I need ya, darlin’. I can’t go back without hurting everyone else … and I can’t stay here without you.”

“So … are you going to marry me?”

“Why not? Ain’t never been married. Time to do that, I guess.”

“You love me?”

“Absolutely, Tracy.”

“Ah, I see. Are you going to buy me a house? Have kids with me? Set me up with my own business?”

I could see she was kidding but I had answers. “Yes. Yes. And yes.”

“Right. Like you have that kind of money,” she snorted.

“Yeah, I do.

“Oh God!” she gasped, pulling the sheets all the way to her chin. “What did you rob?”

“Nothin’. They gave it to me, to help me get started. Enough for a house and kids and a hair cutting business for you too, I suppose. Sure. Why not?”

“Jesus, Ben. I swear I don’t know what to believe and what not to believe!”

“What do you believe, darlin’?”

It took several moments but she finally answered. “I believe that you love me. Ben?”

“Yeah?” My fingers were tugging at the sheets.

“Will you be faithful to me?”

“Guess if I’m gonna marry you, I don’t got much choice in the matter, now do I?”

“Yeah, like that means anything. You and Bill Clinton.”

“Who?”

“Damn,” she slithered out of my reach and stood, looking for her clothes. “And you’re saying all the other women, the ones with guys like you … they all know and understand this?”

I nodded, wishing she’d come back to bed.

“I don’t know Ben. I just don’t know. I mean … can you really do this? In this time? This place?”

“With you beside me, I know I can try.”

“And what about sheriff? Can you be a sheriff?”

“Why not? It all remains to be seen, ya know. Might not even get elected.”

“And if you get an urge to rob something? Shit, you can’t be a sheriff and robbing banks or trains or armored cars or little old ladies or –”

I stood, captured her in my arms. “Don’t look much like God has any intentions of lettin’ me rob anything anymore, Tracy. Come back to bed.”

She struggled free. “I … I think I need to talk to someone about this.”

“You’re talking to me.” She was buttoning her blouse while I was unbuttoning it. Finally her hands slapped mine away and I sat on the mattress, just looking up at her, hoping. “Where ya goin’?”

“I need to talk to … I don’t know … Riley. Yeah, Riley. Come with me, we’ll go talk to her.”

“Can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t.”

So that’s the scowl I’ll be facing after the ‘I dos’. “Her kid’s got some … pox or something. I ain’t been … uh … encapsulated against chicken pox. They said I gotta stay away from the kids who have it.”

“Inoculated? Do you mean you never had shots for chicken pox?”

I shook my head. “Claudia … she’s a nurse. She’s supposed to come give me something so I don’t get sick. I can’t go up there with you. Why don’t you just stay here with me for a few days, then when it’s safe, I’ll come with ya.” Damn, I didn’t want her leaving. What if she didn’t come back?

“No. You stay here.”

“I’m kinda … locked up,” I grinned.

“Oh,” she shivered and smiled real wicked like. “All you need is some chains. Now that might be fun.”

“Not for me, darlin’.”

“Oh, right,” she glanced toward the dark TV. “Sorry. I’ll be back later. I’m just going to go upstairs and talk with Riley … if she has time.”

She kissed me real sweet and left and I quickly called to ask Riley’s help with my problem. She said she’d be happy to explain it all. Of course, she was also slurring her words, kinda like a town drunk I once knew. Seems she’s gotten into John’s whiskey.

CORY

June in Vermont is about forty degrees colder than June in Los Angeles. If I’d made it back, I’d be sweltering in stagnant 101 heat on the 405 at probably 35 MPH! And that, my friends is with the AC blasting along with KROQ’s Kevin and Bean. Now all I was hearing was a gaggle of chirping red breasted robins … and quiet. Loud, blasting, peaceful quiet. Well hell, this adjustment just might be a little tougher than I expected.

The first time I stepped foot in the Inn, I was on a personal quest to find my granddad. I was working too, had purpose and responsibility. This afternoon I found myself roaming around the lobby, the empty breakfast room, the parlor and climbing stairs, looking for something to stimulate me into thinking, I guess. Daisy was blissfully occupied stocking the bar down in the pub and I only get in the way when she does that kinda stuff. So … I just nosed around like a lost puppy.

Oh!

I had to laugh; I was facing the door to that left tower room. Guess I was still looking for granddad Bud after all. I tried the knob and oddly enough, it wasn’t locked. Stepped inside and closed the door real quiet then sprawled on the floor, my ankles crossed, hands behind my head. Sixty-eight degrees in the Vermont mountains and I’d been freezing to death, but up there, the sun pounded through the wall of French doors and intensified the heat. Finally I was comfortable.

“So,” I groaned. “Now what the fuck am I gonna do?”

I ran the gamut from thinking of a way to change my mind, to figuring out how to make it all work. I spent my entire life in LA, worked my entire career in Hollywood. Was I fuckin’ nuts? “Hey Bad Ass Bud … what would you do if you were in my position?”

Silence.

“Am I to assume you’d do nothing?”

More silence.

“Maybe you just plain disapprove of me being here?”

Nada. Even the birds outside got quiet.

Okay, fine. I figured my grandfather was off haunting some other corner of the Inn. In fact, the room was so chillingly still, I shivered. I know there’s a ton of paranormal activity in there, but for some reason, it had taken a fuckin’ hiatus on me. Ah well, no answers there. I grunted up, thinking maybe I’d take a walk down by the pond. This nature stuff is supposed to be good for you. Hell, at least I could have a cigarette; not one smoking room in the whole Inn … and I thought Los Angeles was tough on smokers.

As I left the room I gave a half-hearted wave. “Later, Bad Ass.” Less than three steps down the stairs, my cell rang.

“Gemma! How are you?”

“Lonely. Wish you were coming back.”

How the fuck did she know we weren’t coming back? Shit, I knew better than to ask that question. She knows all kinda shit she shouldn’t know. “Yeah,” I sat on the stoop with a grunt. “Now all I gotta figure out is how to make a living in the wilds of the great north east.”

“That’s why I called, dear. I have a friend of a friend who has worked with various production companies in New York, Vermont and New Hampshire. Granted, it’s nothing as exciting as here in LA, but …”

“Who is it?” My heart started to race and I tossed a glare over my shoulder. Fuck, talk about ask and you shall receive?

“His name is Bennett Caster. He owns a production company in Burlington and is currently facing a major promotional project for the Vermont private and state owned resorts. It’s a three year project. What do you think?”

“Any ghosts involved?” I teased.

“No, but I understand that you’ll have to cope with the winter weather, maybe even learn to ski or something.”

“God help me,” I laughed. “Damn, this might be perfect, thanks so much, Gemma!”

“Good, I’ll email you all his information. Now he’s expecting to hear from you today. Can you do that?”

“I’ll call, set up for an interview, whatever he needs.”

“No, no. You misunderstand, Cory. There’s no interview. He’s already offering you the project, and damn excited that you might accept. It’s not a job … it’s kind of the start for your own business. You’d be an independent contractor for the project. The budget is pretty hefty too. He’s not the only company out there who’s doing these kinds of things. You can kick ass if you work hard at this.”

“Did you say ‘ass’? Gemma, I never heard you talk like that,” I joked. “Where’s the ivory soap when you need it?”

“Enough joking around. Is Daisy okay?”

“In her element. She’s now running the pub here. When are you coming back to visit?”

“Ah … it might take me a little while to recover from my last visit. I’m taking a vacation in Hawaii … no cameras, no paranormal activity, just me and a pineapple margarita.”

“Good. You have fun. Call when you get back.”

BUD WHITE’S GHOST

I laughed. Ask and you shall receive, my ass. I gotta keep that kid close. Someone’s gotta keep a fuckin’ eye on him.

CATHERINE MARIE AUBREY

Yes, they itch something awful, but unlike my sister, I don’t scratch. Chelsea scratches so much, mommy had to tape mittens on her hands! I think that’s really, really funny. We’re visiting with Aunt Riley and it might be a lot of fun. Maybe. Nathan is quiet, staring at the door and waiting for his daddy. Believe me, I know how he feels. Mommy says we’ll be with Daddy in five weeks. That’ll be cool, we’ll be six-months-old and that’ll be a wonderful half a happy birthday, now won’t it?

We’re not the only ones visiting. Ruthie and her mommy are here and so is another lady they called Tracy. Pretty name. Tracy. I wish I could say it. The only things that come out of my mouth are blahahahaha or spit-up so far. But soon. Real soon. All the ladies are talking real quietly to each other, talking to Tracy the way they talk to us when we’re sick or scared. Maybe Tracy is going to get chicken pox too?

Valerie is here and she’s trying to play school with us. What’s school? She’s trying to teach us numbers from our blocks. I know two. Oh yeah, I know two … ‘cause that’s just one too many. Look at her! Chelsea is laying there, kicking her feet and screaming.

“Antony! Antony! I want Antony!”

Sheesh, enough already. Nathan got bored with the numbers stuff and he climbed onto Aunt Meredith’s lap. That was a nice cuddle. Maybe I can get one too? But before I move to try to get over there, Ruthie jumped up and pushed him off. She can be so mean sometimes! Look at them. He just sat close beside Aunt Meredith and Ruthie just kept poking him in the head. He didn’t even cry about it. I bet those two get married.

The big mommies and Tracy are drinking from their own bottles. No nipples, but tall bottles. Mommy called it wine and started singing, “Put the lime in the coconut and drink it all together. Put the lime in the coconut, then you’ll feel better.”

What’s a lime? What’s a coconut? I know what bananas are; she squishes one up every morning for us. Maybe bananas are in those bottles?

Hey! Get away! Look at her! My sister is such a pain in the dirty diaper! If she can’t scratch her own chicken pox she tries to scratch mine. I rolled away and she screamed louder.

“Antony! I need you, Antony!”

Oh brother! Just then, Uncle John came in. Boy, for a sick kid Nathan can move pretty fast! Uncle John is just like Daddy. He picked Nathan up and rocked him close before looking at all the big ladies.

“Ah … think I’m goin’ down to the pub. Have a nice time, ladies.”

He set Nathan down and made a ‘hasty retreat’, as Daddy would say. Ah well, looking around I could certainly understand his need to leave. Four big, grown up ladies giggling, my sister screaming for Antony, Ruthie again poking and poking and poking at Nathan and Valerie, restacking the blocks to explain the finer points of geometry.

I think it’s going to be a long afternoon.

RICHIE ROBERTS

I checked the mail like always. Yeah, it looked like junk mail, but I tossed it on the ‘read’ pile. No clue why. In fact, I didn’t even get through the rest of the stack, I ripped the envelope opened.

It was on nice letterhead, not some kinda gimmick promotion at all. I lifted the letter close to the lamp. That was a real signature. Seemed a Mr. John Biebe was inviting me to be the guest of the 1876 Manor at Mount Mansfield in Stowe Vermont. Huh. All expenses paid. Was it a bribe? Not likely, I had no current cases on my books at all.

Shit, I always wanted to do some skiing in Vermont. Maybe I should take this quiet time and accept the invite. Couldn’t hurt. Wasn’t like I got anything better to do. I called and the woman at the front desk said she expected to hear from me and everything was arranged. Piece of cake to set up a weekend.

But, I was still feeling a little suspicious.

MAX SKINNER

I received two interesting letters today. One from the owner of a hotel called the 1876 Manor at Mt. Mansfield in Vermont … a little cheap shtick to get me to take a look at his place. I tossed it through the shredder and opened the second. Now this one interested me.

It was a well written letter from a gentleman by the name of Titus Pullo. It was humble and open and directly requesting my assistance with his new vineyard. I have some experience with this obviously … but not so much on this side of the pond.

Two years ago I purchased an already successful vineyard and winery in Canada near Lake Ontario. It’s gone well and I have made a few rather aggressive changes that have proven highly productive. Perhaps my reputation crosses the border into the States?

I read and reread the letter several times then took another look at the return address. Stowe, Vermont? Isn’t that where that silly advert came from? My fingers tangled in the shreds of paper and I chuckled. No worries. I clearly remembered the name of the place and the gentleman, probably some advertising lackey, John Biebe.

I’d just look it up online and follow through with the reservation. After all, if I was about to do a good deed for Mr. Pullo, at least it would not be on my dime. A stay at a four-star Inn (if it truly was a four-star Inn), might be pleasant. According to the map, Pullo’s Vineyard was less than three miles from the place. Capital!